Subject

Gilgamesh opened his eyes. The flames licked at his armored heels, tried to eat into the radiant gold, but they were ineffective. The miasma in the air, the lingering stench of evil, permeated his entire surroundings. It was a disgusting smell, one that had the King narrowing his eyes, his resolve solidfying once more.

This world, it was wretched, putrid, it reeked with evil. It had to be cleansed, and he knew how. His world, his garden, could not be allowed to fester so.

He walked through the blazing inferno, bothered only by the disgusting smell of burning human flesh and rotting evil, and gazed upon the dying, those pleading for help, the disgusting, pathetic facsimiles of the humanity that he governed. Mere knockoffs, weakened by an all too permissive and safe world. His upper lip curled as the hand of a cur touched his greave. Without a second thought, he stomped on the offending appendage, dragging a pained scream as the owner was consumed by the cursed flames of the grail.

The King wondered, then, what the point was of observing this event closely. He had originally had a purpose for this, but he supposed it was filled, by this point - the Grail War had been lost, temporarily, but he didn't need the grail. He was merely going along with the idea of the war out of a desire to fight boredom. He was fighting with merely a fraction of his true greatness, and even then, his radiance outshone all the pathetic dogs that had been summoned to supposedly fight him as equals.

As if!

While debating whether or not he should just leave, something caught Gilgamesh's eye, as his powerful senses detected something interesting. Movement. And not the shambling of a soon to be corpse, but rather what appeared to be a human, a badly burnt human, but a human nonetheless, who walked across the flames, almost as if ignoring them.

"Interesting," the King declared, crossing his arms and turning fully to face the moving human.

It was a young boy. A young boy whose clothing had already long since burned off, whose skin was melting in places, who had clearly been blinded by the burns on his eyes, and who would soon, quite soon indeed, lose the ability to walk as his legs could no longer stand on the blister-covererd soles of his feet.

And yet, the boy moved forward. He faltered, he tripped, he nearly fell many times, and yet he picked himself up and walked forward.

What a will to survive! Gilgamesh found himself oddly pleased by the sight of the boy fighting for his life, even as he was already burned beyond the point where modern medicine could save him. Pleased and impressed, the King found himself feeling magnanimous, something he did not feel very often. "Your will to survive, boy, it is quite impressive indeed," Gilgamesh declared, his voice, spoken with the authority of the King himself, drowning out the raging roar of the flames and the distant screaming of those still conscious enough to agonize. "You, you are worthy of being my subject, indeed."

And the boy was. Gilgamesh doubted he could find such a strong will even in his glory days, when the world was too harsh for any to become as lax and soft as modern humanity.

However, rather than acknowledge such a blessing, the boy groaned in pain, turning towards him.

Gilgamesh smirked. "Indeed... such determination, I believe, deserves a proper reward. Come, mongrel, and receive it from The King himself."

Whether it was because he understood his words or because he just saw anyone and wished that they would help, the boy began walking in Gilgamesh's direction, shuffling at a slightly quicker pace.

However, a blast of fire erupted from just behind the boy, the force of it knocking him to the ground and the flames that accompanied it burning off what little remained of recognizability in his facial features.

Gilgamesh smirked. "Oh ho," he voiced his amusement clearly and loudly, "it seems like you have fallen, boy. Prove to me that you're worth saving, mongrel, prove to me that you are a worthy subject, and I promise that I shall do so, indeed. Come to me. Walk on your own two feet, make it to me, and you will be saved."

The boy twitched in the ground.

"Do not disappoint me," The King said.

The boy's hand twitched more strongly, and several of the burn-caused blisters on it exploded, as it closed into a fist. With a mighty heave of effort, the boy slowly, painfully, got back on his feet.

The King smiled.

The boy took a step.

It was a rare smile, one not tainted by condescencion or barely veiled mockery.

The boy's right foot was slid across the burning hot pavement below him.

No, it was a true, genuine smile.

The boy took another step.

And another, and another, and another, dragging a bleeding stum behind him, his foot having been consumed by the raging flame.

For the King had finally found one worthy of his time.

This boy, who had walked on his own two feet, through the raging, cursed flames of the grail... This, and only this, boy... Gilgamesh had finally found a worthy subject.

Gilgamesh reached into his treasury, and pulled out a familiar bottle. "This is your final test, boy. Raise your hand. Drink this under your own power. Consider this a ceremony, your recreation as my servant, as my serf and subject. Consider this... your rebirth."

Holding his hand grasping the neck of the bottle in front of the boy's face, Gilgamesh was nothing if not pleased when the boy's arms jerkingly raised to hold it. Grasping it with both hands, the boy, seemingly working on automatic pilot, drank it eagerly. Gilgamesh could only imagine how soothing it must be to his burnt throat.

"Now, boy... answer your King. What is your name?"

"My name... I..." the boy began, his voice trembling. "I am... Shirou."

Gilgamesh laughed. "Rejoice," he said, for a moment feeling odd saying that word, "Shirou, because you are now under the care and tutelage of King Gilgamesh of Uruk, the King of Heroes, the legend that surpasses all others. Rejoice, Shirou, for you are now a subject of the one true King!"

Wouldn't that be interesting? I dunno, maybe someone could write a follow up. Hint hint, nudge nudge.